A Damsel in Distress
by magicboxofoddities
Summary: Skulduggery Pleasant was a damsel in distress. Not that she'd care for people in distress. Darquesse usually quite liked distress, just not necessarily the damsel. She usually quite liked Skulduggery Pleasant in distress, too, but only when she was said distress. / Valduggery, or rather Darquesse/Skulduggery


_Summary: _Skulduggery Pleasant was a damsel in distress. Not that she'd care for people in distress. Darquesse usually quite liked distress, just not necessarily the damsel. She usually quite liked Skulduggery Pleasant in distress, too, but only when _she_ was said distress.

_A/N: _I have basically no better excuse for this than sleep deprivation and lsodm-hangover. That said, lsodm spoiler. Also, disclaimer for that one speech that certainly doesn't belong to me but was shamelessly stolen from my favourite Kiliel scene of the second part of The Hobbit because of a weird crossover dream. Enjoy.

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Skulduggery Pleasant was a damsel in distress. Not that she'd care for people in distress. Darquesse usually quite liked distress, just not necessarily the damsel. She usually quite liked Skulduggery Pleasant in distress, too, but only when _she_ was said distress. Hurting him or his better half, Lord Vile, was her privilege, and hers only.  
This dimwitted second class villain certainly did not deserve the death of someone like the great skeleton detective on his resume.

Not that he was dead yet.  
Not more than usual, at least.  
Not that she cared.

Slashing through his ridiculous opponent with a lazy wave of her hand on her way down, she landed next to his rattled bones in the remains of the exploded house. She'd seen him in a state like this before, only that it had been her fault then and that she'd been sure he'd stand back up again. Always treated him carefully, oh yes, she did. So, maybe she'd thrown him around a bit. Detached some bones, most probably even broke some. But, hey, Vile had always picked him up. And then he'd thrown _her_ around. It was a fun game, really.

For some reason though, he refused to follow the rules. There was no setting his body back together. There wasn't even the tiniest shadow around to show her it was his turn to play. She stared at him for another minute, waiting for him to regain his consciousness. When he didn't, she threw back an angry glimpse at the sorcerer who had dared to break her favourite toy and almost considered sending another shadow to dismember him just a little more, even though he already was in pieces.

Then, finally, a movement caught her eye and she turned around.

Despite his lack of a face, she could see the pain in his expression as he turned his skull towards her. Darquesse didn't even know how he'd done it, seeing that beautiful blank head was in no way attached to the rest of his bones anymore. Her curiosity got the better of her and she knelt down to examine him. They exchanged looks, both equally curious, suspicious and maybe even a teeny tiny bit of worry flickering in their glances. Well, her glance. He didn't exactly have a gaze to read, but she liked to imagine if he had, it would mirror hers. She was quite sure it would. She knew him well, after all.

With another flick of her hand, his beloved hat, wrecked as it was, flew into her palm and she set it on top of his skull, while the rest of his bones slowly rose from the dust and gathered closer around him. Her smile was gentle when she touched his cheekbone and reattached some of his skeletal features, although she left the important ones, like arms or knees or that one shoulder blade, out of reach. She'd save them for later. Still, she couldn't help but turn to grin when he slightly leaned into her touch.

"You're not actually here," he murmured after some time, his voice hoarse and distant, as if he wasn't quite back yet. "Are you?"  
She didn't know if it meant that he knew she wasn't his Valkyrie or if he thought her to be some kind of hallucination, but it didn't matter. Darquesse continued working her magic, slow and silent, and he continued to be lost in his thoughts and wouldn't even recognize that his pain lessened.

When he spoke next, he obviously had noticed her doing, but seemingly couldn't yet focus enough to completely grasp the situation. His words were barely a whisper and hushed, as if he was retelling a wake-dream, sharing a secret on his deathbed. "No. … But she's far away." A break. "She's far away from me. I like to imagine she walks in starlight in another world. It's a nice thought, isn't it? I like to think she escaped the darkness and escaped you, and that she's in a better place now." Another break. If he'd still had a breath, he'd take a deep one now. "Do you think she could have loved me?"

Only at his question she recognized that up to know, she hadn't spoken a word. Huh. Unusual for her, but it seemed to greatly unsettle him to just see her stand there and touch him and grin, and since she didn't get her usual game to play, she figured this to be another take on it.

Time went by again, but he patiently waited for an answer on that one, his skull still turned into her direction, however motionless now. Maybe he just went back to unconsciousness.

A memory struck her and she knew what to do. With another devil's grin, she plucked his head from the ground and kissed him right on the teeth, then let it fall down again, his jawbone springing off, landing next to that still gloved hand she'd saved up. He could surely do the rest by himself.

A last smile in the direction she remembered watching herself so long ago and she was off, even now in eager awaiting for their next meeting, only one thought in her now single-minded head.

_But darling, I still do._


End file.
